


Wicked Games

by Ftballfangrl



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, bottom!eric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 17:21:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20261731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ftballfangrl/pseuds/Ftballfangrl
Summary: Eric Dier couldn’t say that he’d ever given Paulo Gazzaniga much thought...





	Wicked Games

**Author's Note:**

  * For [severalkittens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/severalkittens/gifts).
  * Inspired by [What a Feeling, What a Night](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18593767) by [severalkittens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/severalkittens/pseuds/severalkittens). 

> So you can blame Abbie completely for what you are about to read! 
> 
> The line “you’re going to make me play Dier, huh?” is from her fic ‘What A Feeling, What A Night' and is the sole reason for what you are about to read.

Eric Dier couldn’t say that he’d ever given Paulo Gazzaniga much thought. Sure he’s his teammate and they might have shared some mate once or twice but beyond that it is just cursory hellos and friendly banter in training. He could count on one hand the number of in depth conversations they’d had and if both of them were ever asked in an interview who they were closest to on the team neither of them would pick each other. 

Which was why he couldn’t understand the way his cheeks had burned and his stomach had flipped when he’d watched Paulo lean back against the bar behind the pool table and raise his eyebrow at Jan, a challenge in his stare as he had said “you’re going to make me play Dier, huh?” He hadn’t caught the conversation that had come before the remark and he gave Toby a look, only getting a small shrug of the shoulders in return. Dele was still talking at his side, prattling on about some Instagram model that he’d started talking to and Eric tried is hardest to concentrate on his words. He saw Jan glance over his shoulder at him out of the corner of his eye and he stopped all pretense and levelled him with a stare. 

“What am I being dragged into now?” he asked the Belgian, raising his beer to his lips. The cold liquid washed over his tongue and he glanced at Paulo who was stood with his arms across his chest, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Jan let out a little chuckle and pointed is pool cue at Eric. “We made a bet. If I beat Paulo then I get to choose who he plays next. How’s your pool skills Dier?” Paulo let out a laugh as Eric looked between him and Jan, a rich sound that made Eric take another drink. He stepped forward, bobbing underneath one of the lamps that framed the area where the pool table was situated. He took Jan’s pool cue from his hands and leaned over, taking a shot. He felt confident that the ball would go in but as it travelled across the smooth expanse of green he felt a small kick of fear that he was about to make a complete fool of himself. A satisfied smile spread across his face as the ball disappeared into the pocket he’d aimed at and he looked up at Paulo, cocking his head to the side. Jan snatched the pool queue back off him and pushed him aside with a smile on his face. 

Eric stepped back, keeping his eyes on the game and he felt Dele come and stand back by his side. He glanced sideways and furrowed his brow at the look on Dele’s face. He was staring at Toby and Jan, who were huddled together whispering and Eric nudged his shoulder. “What’s up with you?” he asked and Dele angled his head towards the pair. Eric looked at them and then back at Dele, giving him a question stare. “They are up to something,” he said and Eric laughed. “Nah they’re probably just whispering sweet nothings to each other,” he replied but Dele didn’t seem convinced. Eric took another sip of his drink and considered what Dele had said. Toby did keep glancing at him and he thought he heard Jan whisper his and Paulo’s name in the same sentence but he just assumed that they were talking about who they thought would win out of the two of them. Dele was just being sensitive because Eric was being drawn into something he wasn’t involved with. 

“You really going to play pool with him?” Dele asked and Eric looked at him. He was staring over his shoulder and he nodded in Paulo’s direction. Eric shrugged his shoulders, unsure why Dele seemed so bothered by the prospect. “One game’s not going to hurt is it? What’s up are you jealous, do you want us to play?” he asked, teasing Dele. His remark gained him an eye roll and Dele lifted his drink to his lips, gaze falling back to his phone. “Whatever Diet,” he retorted and Eric snorted. Dele was his best friend but sometimes the double standards in their dynamic grated on Eric. Dele had been glued to his phone all evening, only looking up to show Eric photos of girls he thought were fit or a meme he found funny. It was only now that there was the threat of Eric’s attention being taken away from him that he seemed to want to actually communicate. “Don’t you have some instamodel to dm?” he asked, the edge in his tone a little sharper than he intended. Dele didn’t respond, just gave him a look and walked off, approaching the sofas where Kyle and Sonny were sat. Eric briefly thought about following him but a strong hand on his shoulder knocked it out of his mind and he turned around to see Jan holding the pool cue out towards him. 

“Yo, we’re thinking of heading out to a club that Kyle knows about anyone want to join us?” Dele’s voice drifted over from the otherside of the room and everyone turned their attention towards him. A murmur rippled through the group and Dele sighed. “I know it’s preseason, I’m not suggesting a piss up. It’s just boring here so fancied a change of scenery. No offence Jan.” He was looking straight at Eric as he said it and he knew that was a dig at him. Eric heard Jan scoff somewhere near him. He was confused, not understanding what it was that had got Dele’s back up. All they were doing was hanging out with the team. They regularly met up at Jan’s house, with his basement pool room and bar it was the perfect spot. When had it become such a problem? Eric tried to remember if there was a reason he seemed so rattled by Paulo, a comment he’d made, an argument or something that meant Dele didn’t like him. But he couldn’t think of one and he put it down to Dele just being a brat. 

“Ah but me and Dier were just about to play pool, weren’t we?” Paulo’s voice was soft, almost purring and Eric watched as Dele set his mouth into a line. His gaze flicked to Paulo and then back and he raised his eyebrows slightly at Eric, asking for an answer. Eric could feel Paulo’s eyes on him and he knew Jan and Toby were staring at him too. He didn’t know why it felt he was taking part in some dare that he hadn’t agreed to, why it felt like even though it was his decision to make the power was out of his hands. He licked his lips and looked at Paulo, those aqua green eyes dancing with a challenge and his stomach flipped. Any other night it would have been an easy choice, he would have put the pool cue down, walked over to Dele, thrown his arm around him and asked him where the club was. But the edge in Dele’s voice and the way he was acting was grating on him and he didn’t have the energy to deal with the look on his face. Which was the reason behind why he answered the way he did, entirely the reason and not because of the prickle of intrigue he had felt when Paulo had said his name or the way in stomach kept doing that stupid flip whenever he looked at him. No, it was Dele being an idiot that made him say “Yeah we were, you want to shoot first or shall I?” His chest burned as thought he registered a flash of hurt in Dele’s stare but he didn’t have long enough to consider what that meant as he watched him turn around and walk out of the room, Kyle and Son following in his wake. One by one other people followed. Danny, Ben and Harry shouting after Dele to wait for them. Coco already on the phone to his wife, telling her he’d be home soon. Moussa, Tanguy and Hugo talking in low french, no doubt sorting out which casino they were going too. Soon enough it was just Eric, Paulo, Toby and Jan left. Eric smiled nervously at Paulo who set about sorting the balls out on the table. For a second his gaze lingered on his long fingers, the way they worked over shiny resin, thumbing the balls so they all faced the right way. He bought his hand up to run it through his dark hair and Eric jumped when their eyes met, realising he was staring. Paulo’s mouth quirked in a smirk and he laid his cue across the table and Eric followed him with his eyes as he made his way towards the bar on the other side. 

“You drink whiskey?” he asked and Eric felt himself nod even though he hated it. Paulo smirked again and Eric really wished he’d stop because it was making his insides do extremely weird things and his neck suddenly felt hot under his collar. A laugh from the other side of the room cut across his thoughts and he glanced over to see Toby pull Jan towards him. Eric couldn’t look away as Toby tilted his head and placed his mouth on Jan’s neck, the way it made Jan bite his lip causing heat to pool low in his stomach. Everyone knew they were together but they were usually discreet and Eric considered how happy they looked, how it felt like they’d forgotten he and Paulo were even in the room with them. Eric continued to stare, continued to feel confused about how it was making him feel until a low cough sounded from behind him and he jumped slightly. He tore his eyes away from Jan and Toby and turned around, greeted with the sight of Paulo holding out a rather full tumbler of whiskey towards him. 

“Ah those two, we should tell them to get a room no?” Paulo asked, voice raised and his head angled towards the two Belgians. Eric clasped his fingers around the glass and his pulse stuttered as Paulo let his fingertips brush against his. Those damn eyes were sparkling in the soft light and Eric laughed, his nervousness bubbling to the surface. He heard movement from where Jan and Toby had been stood and he looked over his shoulder. Jan had Toby’s hand in his and he was walking backwards, eyes fixed on Toby. A wicked grin was plastered on Toby’s face and he looked over at them, saluting them as he allowed Jan to lead him out of the room. The temptation to ask Paulo where he thought they were going flitted across his mind but he batted it away, realising how naive that was. He lifted his drink to his lips and allowed the smooth liquid to wash over his tongue. He grimaced slightly as he swallowed, the alcohol burning as it slid down his throat. The effect was almost immediate. His limbs felt heavy as he moved and he looked down, swilling the liquid around in his glass. He tried to remember how many beers he’d had and let out a little giggle as he felt the room spin. 

“Right Dier you ready for me to take you?” Eric snapped his head up at the question, the words _ take you _ reverberating around his brain and heat bloomed in his cheeks as he remembered the game of pool they were meant to be playing. “Confident aren’t you?” he asked, trying to inject his voice with confidence. Paulo winked at him and Eric nearly dropped his drink. He was leant against the bar, holding his glass just in front of his face. He had one leg crossed over the other at the ankle and Eric dragged his eyes over his body. Paulo must have been drinking whiskey all night, an empty bottle stood next to the one he’d opened for the pair of them and Eric’s legs suddenly felt very wobbly. He wasn’t used to this, being intimidated, he was a six foot something defensive midfielder and his heart should not be in his mouth over the way Paulo Gazzaniga was looking at him. It’s just a game of pool he told himself, a simple game of pool between two teammates. But his mind drifted to Toby and Jan and what they could be doing a couple of floors above them and he had to look away from Paulo unable to ignore the burn in his groin. He needed to distract himself and he picked up his pool cue. He leaned over and removed the wooden triangle that was holding the balls in place, making sure to lift it slowly so they stayed still. He chanced a glance at Paulo who inclined his head, indicating it was fine to take the first go. Eric swallowed and leaned over the table, lining the cue up. He could feel Paulo’s stare on him and he shifted his feet. He focused on the yellow ball at the tip of the triangle and pulled his cue back between his fingers. 

“I’m curious. Who tops out of you and Dele?” 

The question made Eric stumble forwards and he completely mistimed his shot, the cue scuffing the curve of the ball and he all but face planted the table.  _ Fuck. _ He steadied his feet and breathed through his nose, trying to calm the roar in his ears. He looked up at Paulo, whose eyes were shining with amusement. Thoughts scrambled around Eric’s mind as he attempted to figure out why he would ask such a question. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said, his voice cracking over the last word and he silently scolded himself for sounding so fucking flustered. 

“Which one of you rec-”

“I know what top and bottom means Paulo. Why would you ask that about me and Dele?”

“Well after his little performance earlier I took it that you two are involved no?” 

“Dele? He’s as straight as a bat mate, did you not hear him talking about those girls?”

“Ahh Eric Dier, you really think that?”

Eric nodded in response but he narrowed his eyes at Paulo as he cocked his head to the side. “Come on, think about it. Really think about it.” The Argentinians voice was like velvet, his accent stretching around the vowels and Eric couldn’t help but stare as he pushed a hand under the hem of his t-shirt. He could see the outline of his fingers as bought them to rest just under his chest, the slither of smooth, dark skin that was now visible making his throat dry. Eric could see the rise of his hip bone above his low slung trousers and the swirls of dark hair that traced a line to his waistband made him feel hot. “You’ve never had a moment? Never had something almost happen? You’ve never thought about what it would be like?” Paulo asked, pushing himself off the bar. Eric swallowed as he mulled over his words, the conflicting images of Dele and the way Paulo was playing with his top causing sweat to coat his palms. 

“Can’t say I have, not with Dele. Not with anyone,” he told him, shrugging his shoulders in an attempt at nonchalance. Paulo licked his lips at the second part of his statement and Eric gripped his pool cue, the feeling of his knuckles straining over the polished wood providing a distraction from the tightness forming in his stomach. “Anyone? Paulo asked, coming to a stop directly across the table from him. He lowered his hand and pushed his wrists against the edge, leaning forwards. Eric didn’t move, didn’t breath as Paulo’s eyes lowered over his torso. He didn’t have a clue what was going on but he felt his dick twitch as Paulo dragged his teeth over his bottom lip. “You sure about that?” he asked again his eyes lingering on Eric’s crotch. He felt heat rush to his groin and he grabbed his drink, taking a long sip. His mind was racing and his heart was hammering in chest but he wasn’t going to let Paulo know much he was affecting him. “Are we playing pool or not?” he asked, deciding to ignore his question. Paulo smirked and shrugged his shoulders, gesturing towards Eric to take another shot. 

“How about we make things interesting?” 

“Yeah?”

“You make a shot I remove a piece of clothing. You miss a shot and you remove a piece of clothing.” 

He knew the sensible thing would be to say no, to tell Paulo to stop messing around but the challenge in his stare went straight to his dick and he found himself nodding.  _ Fuck.  _ This was so unlike him, so far from how he would normally behave and he was sure it was the alcohol that now coated his veins that had made him take leave of his senses. That and the image of Paulo without all of those clothes on that was now crowding his mind. “Strip snooker,” he said, a statement rather than a question. Paulo chuckled and nodded, lifting an eyebrow. Eric gripped his cue and realigned it. His hands were slick with sweat and he hoped Paulo didn’t recognise how difficult it was for him to get a good grip. He stared at the balls, all neatly stacked in their lines and he wondered how on earth this had happened. His eyes travelled to the pockets at the four corners of the table and he angled his cue. This time Paulo kept his mouth shut as Eric made his shot and the balls scattered, bouncing off one another before rolling around in all directions. Eric bought the cue down to his side and he couldn’t ignore the thump his veins as he watched three balls disappear in quick succession. 

_ Well shit.  _

Paulo smiled and cocked his head, pointing down at his feet. Eric let out a breath as he realised he was taking his shoes off but then he noticed he wasn’t wearing any socks. He scanned his eyes over Paulo and mentally counted the amount of clothing he was wearing.  _ Shoes are gone, trousers, t-shirt, does a belt count?  _ Paulo held up two fingers at him and placed his shoes on the table behind him, lining them up perfectly. Eric could feel the heat in the room pressing in on him as Paulo turned back round to face him and he reached out for his drink. He could really do without anymore whiskey but he needed to do something with his hands, needed to focus on something other than the way Paulo was edging his way around the table, fingers caressing his belt. He pressed his fingers into the deckled edge of his glass, trying to focus on the muted sharpness. Silence surrounded them and all the air seem to have closed in, enveloping them in a little bubble. 

“Looks like you might make light work of this Dier,” Paulo remarked his eyes fixed on Eric as he worked at the silver buckle, teasing the leather strap slowly through the clasp. Eric couldn’t stop staring, even as he lifted the whiskey to his lips and his tongue darted over the rim almost involuntarily as he watched him pull the belt free, the slip of the leather against his jeans coinciding the whiskey sliding down Eric’s throat, making his chest burn. Paulo wound the belt around his hand and placed it on the edge of the pool table, holding up three fingers. 

_ Belt counts. Three shots.  _ Three shots and Paulo would be naked. The thought sent a thrill through him and he trained his face into what he hoped was a passive expression as he lifted his cue for the next shot. He saw Paulo stop out of the corner of his eye and he shifted, aiming so that if he hit it right the ball would pocket right underneath his belt. He focused and slid the cue between his fingers and satisfaction swelled in his chest as it rolled perfectly, tipping over the edge slowly into the pocket he’d wanted. Paulo smiled, a wicked smile and Eric’s jeans suddenly felt too tight and he dug his fingers into his palm. A moment passed and nothing happened, Paulo just stood there, his eyes fixed somewhere just over Eric’s shoulder. “You pick,” he said, eyes focusing in on him and Eric quirked an eyebrow. “You pick,” Paulo repeated. He fingered the hem of his t-shirt and then tugged at a belt loop on his jeans, the waistline shifting, giving Eric a hint at the tan line that lay beneath. He focused on that slither of skin, biting his lip as Paulo’s fingertips fluttered against his abdomen. He sucked in a breath as Paulo stepped forward, closing the gap between them to no more than a metre. 

“T-shirt,” he stated, his voice low and Paulo nodded, lifting his arms up behind his head and tugging on the neck of his t-shirt. The light was framing his side and Eric swallowed as Paulo lifted the dark blue material tantalisingly slowly. Inch by inch his stomach was revealed and Eric stared at the v lines that angled downwards, his jeans now dangerously low. He was lithe, not a scrap of fat on him and as he pulled the t-shirt over his head his abs flexed and Eric gripped the edge of the pool table as the shadows danced over the contours of the muscles. Paulo lowered his arms, t-shirt gripped in his left hand and he shook it out before folding it carefully, placing it on the adjacent corner to his belt. It hadn’t escaped Eric’s notice that he wasn’t just discarding his clothes, that he was taking his time to make them neat.  _ He’s enjoying this  _ he thought and counted out a few breaths. He wasn’t going to let Paulo know how worked up he was, how his dick was starting to strain against the tightness of his jeans. He wasn’t used to yielding the power to someone else and he wasn’t about to hand it to Paulo that easily. 

He faced the pool table again and contemplated his next move. He knew what he was going to do but it needed to look real and he picked his spot before leaning back down. This time he looked at Paulo after he made his shot, watching as he registered the ball bouncing back off the edge and into the middle, skittering around until it came to a stop. Eric didn’t wait for him to speak, to move, he just reached over and pulled his top off in one smooth motion. He balled it up between his hands and threw it on the floor, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck. Paulo’s eyes followed the movement and his tongue darted over his lips as he focused on Eric’s arm. Eric knew that he was in good shape. He was bulky but in a built kind of way and he’d been complimented on his arms before. Whereas Paulo was athletic, Eric was pure muscle and he could tell from the way Paulo shifted on his feet that he was having the desired effect on the Argentinian. They didn’t speak, Paulo barely moved as Eric pulled the cue back across him and lined up for another shot. This time he sank the ball, the force of the way he hit it making the pocket rattle. Paulo smirked and looked down at his jeans. He didn’t need to undo the button or pull down the zip, it was obvious that they’d come down with little resistance but that didn’t stop him from making a show of it. He lowered the zip, stretching the material over his hips and lowered them down, pushing them until they pooled around his feet. He stepped out of them and started to bend down but Eric lifted his hand, stopping him in his tracks. Paulo straightened back up and ran a hand over his stomach as Eric bent down to pick up his jeans, hanging them over his arm and his skin prickled as he watched Paulo’s adam’s apple bob up and down. Paulo’s lips parted slightly, a slow exhale escaping and if Eric hadn’t been fully hard he definitely was now. He folded the jeans and handed them back to Paulo, their fingers brushing against each other briefly. It was the first bit of contact they’d had an a jolt ran up Eric’s arm at his touch. 

Paulo placed his jeans with his t-shirt and leaned back against the edge of the pool table. Eric explored the planes of his thighs, the way his quads moved as he stretched his legs out. His boxers were small, the black material highlighting just how tanned and smooth his skin was. The waistband rested low on his hips, the white line of his tan broken up by swirls of dark hair. From this angle Eric could see that he wasn’t the only one feeling the effects of their little game and he tried not to focus too much on the fact he could see the outline of Paulo’s dick, boxers tenting just slightly. He hadn’t given much thought to what might happen once they got to this stage, or moreover to the step directly after this one and he suddenly felt very hot. One more shot and Paulo would be fully undressed and from what he could see from where he stood it was going to be quite some sight. He absentmindedly dragged a hand over his crotch, the friction making his vision blurr slightly and he swore internally. The relative silence that they’d been playing out their game in seemed to stretch between them. It was thick, pulled tight and Eric felt sweat trickle down the back of his neck. The promise of what might follow once Eric made his next shot made him feel light headed and he once again reached for his drink. He bought the glass to his lips and Paulo moved next to him, turning to face him. 

“Well all know by the way,” he breathed and Eric paused, drinking swilling around his mouth. “We all know how much Dele wants you, how much you want him too.” Eric spluttered, coughing as the whiskey hit the back of his throat and he felt it run down his chin, splash against his chest. His cheeks burned, his pulse roared in his ears and the satisfied smile that spread across Paulo’s face as he gasped for breath told him who exactly held all the power. He lifted his hand up, hovering his fingers just above where the liquid was dripping over his chest but Paulo bought his hand up to meet his, pushing it back down. “He talks in his sleep you know? Dele,” he all but whispered and Eric held his breath as he lowered his fingers, running them over the wet part of his chest. He let them linger, spreading the whiskey through dark blonde hair, watching as it gathered together in the little whorls. “Juan had to share a room with him in Shanghai, he said something about Dele moaning your name.” His voice was so casual, so nondescript and Eric had to clamp his jaw together to stop himself from moaning as he watched Paulo lift his fingers to his mouth and suck on them, pinning him in place with those damn eyes as he pulled them back out slowly. Eric wished he’d stop mentioning Dele and he blinked as the idea of it being Dele stood in front of him nearly naked instead of Paulo entered his head. “And Jan told me what he caught you doing that time, in the changing rooms,” he said, hand ghosting across Eric’s abdomen. It was barely a touch but Eric shivered all the same and fuck he was hard and his dick twitched at the memory of his hand and a video of Dele playing silently on his phone. He swallowed and looked at Paulo, trying to think of something to say, something that would even out the playing field. But he had nothing. 

“Time for another go,” Paulo told him, nodding at his pool cue and Eric felt a bit dizzy at the sudden change of subject. Paulo didn’t back off, didn’t allow more than the mere inches between them as he bent over the table and attempted to focus enough to line up a shot. Just as he was about to pull his arm back Paulo moved away from the table. Eric furrowed his brow but kept his eyes trained on the ball he wanted to hit. “I can show you you know.” Paulo’s voice was thick like honey and it poured into Eric’s ear as he came up behind him. Eric bit his lip as he pushed against him, pressing his hips into the edge of the table, he could feel Paulo’s erection on his ass and he stared down as he placed his hands either side of Eric’s arms, bracketing him in. Paulo applied a little bit more pressure and Eric closed his eyes, the movement causing his groin to rub across the top of the polished wooden edge. Pleasure shot through him and his fingers tingled. He cleared his throat and tried to straighten up. Paulo had a few inches of height on him and the unfamiliar feeling of being completely surrounded by someone was making his legs feel a bit weak. “Show me what?” he choked out, voice cracking over his dry throat. Paulo leaned into him again, breath caressing his neck and Eric felt his hips thrust forwards.

“Make this shot and I’ll show you how to make Dele come so hard he won’t be able to walk the next day.” 

Eric’s head was spinning. He could still taste the whiskey on the back of his tongue and he couldn’t tell whether it was the drink that was making his legs feel weak or because of the way Paulo was pressed up against him. He shifted, trying to create enough space between him and the pool table so he could position himself. Paulo lifted his hands away from the side, pulling back enough so that Eric could bend slightly at the waist. Eric’s breath stuttered as he felt Paulo’s fingers flutter against his side. He zoned in on the green of the tabletop, the feel of the wood in his hands. He tried everything he could to ignore the way his skin burned as Paulo traced a line over his the rise of his hip bones, ghosted a touch over the thin skin above the waistline of his jeans. It briefly entered his head that he could miss, fluff the shot and purposely make sure the ball didn’t fall into the pocket. He wondered what would happen if he did but then Paulo dropped his arm, curved his hand around the outline of his dick and squeezed making his vision blurred at the edges. _ Time to walk the walk Gazzaniga  _ and he slid the cue across his fingers once more, hitting a yellow ball and following it with his eyes as it travelled in a perfect straight line and dropped into the pocket diagonally across from him. Eric licked his lips, tensing his arms, readying himself to turn around and watch Paulo remove his last piece of clothing when he felt the goal keepers arms snake around his waist. He looked down, a comment forming on his tongue but the words died in his mouth as he watched Paulo’s long, slender fingers begin to work at the button of his jeans. He shifted, placing his cue next to him and pressed his hands against the side of the table. The felt ran over the lip of the wood and it’s edge scratched at his palms as he leaned forwards, unable to tear his eyes away from what was going on near his crotch. Paulo’s breath caressed his ear as he moved to lower the zip and Eric couldn’t help but flinch slightly at the sensation it caused. He was so fucking hard and having Paulo’s hands so close but so far away from where he wanted them was making his head swim. Cool air brushed his skin as Paulo began to ruck his jeans down, tugging on them slowly. “I made the shot, this is cheating,” he breathed but Paulo ignored him. After a third more forceful tug Eric’s jeans pooled around his feet and it registered that he was still wearing his shoes. Paulo’s hands crept back up to his waist and he fingered the top of Eric’s briefs, slipping his thumbs underneath the waistband. He pulled the elastic away from his skin and Eric’s whole body thrummed with anticipation. Paulo edged the material down an inch and then stopped, the tip of Eric’s dick uncovered. 

“Evens.”

Eric’s knees wobbled as Paulo’s deep voice rumbled against his ear, his accent turning his insides to liquid. His breath was uneven and he was scared to lift his hands away from the table. He glanced down and he could see the shine of precome coating the fine hairs on his abdomen. Paulo leaned over, extended his arm to grab the pool cue and he moved it back towards Eric, nudging his arm with it. “How about you take one last shot?” he suggested and Eric curled his fingers just above Paulo’s, taking the cue from his grip. He stared ahead of him for a second. He couldn’t see Paulo’s face, couldn’t see any part of him other than his arms, his hands and yet he couldn’t focus. He couldn’t focus on anything other than the way Paulo had once again pressed his hips up against him, the hardness of his erection now nestled in the centre of his ass. “One more?” he asked, turning his head to the side. Paulo leaned into him, reach around and placed his palm directly over Eric’s dick. He didn’t do anything, just kept his hand there as he whispered “one more” and Eric nodded, looking back down at the expanse of the table. His eyes scanned the remaining balls, calculating which one would be the easiest, the hardest or the most impressive shot. He could pocket every single ball that was left, he knew that. At this point it was about how quickly he wanted this to go, how easy he wanted to make getting Paulo naked to be. He almost laughed as he glanced over at the other side of the room, thinking about how he’d been stood there not even two hours before, drinking his beer and having an average night. And now here he was with Paulo Gazzaniga pushing his dick against ass and the promise of what might happen once he made this final move hanging in the air. 

_ Easy option,  _ he decided, not sure if he could take the tension much longer. Something needed to happen to stop the teasing, the tantalisingly slow game they were playing. So Eric bent down, focusing on the way Paulo’s hands gripped at his sides as he pulled the cue back and made his final shot, watching with a lazy smile as it dipped into the pocket nearest to them. He dropped the cue on the table and reached behind him, tugging on the waistband of Paulo’s boxers. The sudden let up in pressure let him know that Paulo had taken a step back and he took a deep breath. He’d made the shot and now, now there was nothing left but the question of what came next. He glanced over his shoulder, fingers curling inwards as he saw Paulo bend down, pulling black fabric over his knees. Eric’s stomach burned as he turned around slowly, running a hand over his chest as his thighs brushed against the cool metal the trimmed the table. Paulo stepped out of his underwear and moved back towards Eric, standing close enough that he could reach out and touch him if he wanted too. Eric lowered his arm, fingers ghosting the sensitive skin just under his belly button. He was contemplating who would make the first move when Paulo answered his question by wrapping his fingers around his own dick. Eric widened his eyes, breathing through his nose to try and calm the adrenaline coursing through his veins. 

“Have you done this before Dier?” he asked, rubbing his thumb over the head of his dick as he looked Eric straight in the eye. He dragged his fist down, slowly, showing off his length and Eric’s balls tightened.  _ Fucking hell.  _ He stared at Paulo’s hand and bought his own down to touch his thigh, fingertips digging in to relieve the need to just  _ touch something _ . “Had a wank? Are you serious?” he retorted, attempting to hide the jump in his voice with a smirk. Paulo responded by pumping his hand a few times, mouth parting as he stared at Eric, a challenge shining in his eyes. “No, no,” he said, licking his lips as he bucked his hips slightly. “Have you ever been fucked?” The question went straight to Eric’s dick and he almost keeled forwards at how fucking turned on he was, his heart hammering against his ribcage. He stared at Paulo’s hand, his eyes following the slow up and down motion and his mind drifted back to the dare games he used to play when he played in Portugal. HIs chest tightened as he recalled the heat of a hotel room, the smell of rum and the hot, wet feeling of a mouth. “Not fucked no,” he answered. He didn’t elaborate but raised his eyebrows at Paulo whose mouth quirked in response. “Did you like it?” he asked, jutting his chin towards Eric’s crotch. Eric swallowed and nodded, his fingers curling around the edge of the table. He’d never told anyone about that and the way Paulo was looking at him now was making him feel more exposed than the fact he was stood with his trousers around his ankles. 

There was a moment of silence, a pause and Eric could hear the roaring in ears, feel the way his skin was prickling with heat. Paulo’s head was cocked to the side, and he was studying Eric, his eyes lingering on his bare chest, travelling over his stomach. He’d stopped playing with himself, his hand lifted away from his dick and his fingers were drawing circles on his thigh. A thrill shot through Eric as he realised he’d caught Paulo in a moment of relaxed vulnerability. He tensed, knowing that it would highlight just how toned he was and Paulo licked his lips. He slowly lifted his hand from the side of the table, brushing his fingertips along his thigh and bringing it up to cup his dick. He squeezed and had to fight against the urge to moan at the feel of his own touch. Paulo’s eyes flicked down and then snapped back up to meet Eric’s stare and a lazy grin spread across his face. It was grin that reminded Eric, once again, who was in control and he dropped his hand. 

“Allow me to let you in on a little secret,” Paulo uttered. His voice was conversational and he turned to the side, his gaze falling on the bar. Eric didn’t say anything, just watched as he walked away, noticing the dimples in the bottom of his back and the supple movement of his thighs. As he reached the bar he extended an arm and picked up his phone. He thumbed over the screen and angled his body so he was half facing Eric. “I think a person has to know what it feels like to be dominated, to surrender themselves completely, in order to be able to unravel someone,” he continued, gaze falling back to his phone. Eric’s whole body thrummed and the thread of power he’d felt slipped away. “You have to know what it’s like to be taken to the edge and pulled back time and time again,” Paulo’s voice was basically a purr and Eric could feel the coil of heat tighten in his stomach at every word. “Get rid of the trousers and the shoes.” The change in Paulo’s tone made Eric’s heart jump and he scuffed at the back of his heel, kicking off his trainers and stepping out of his trousers. He nudged them backwards with a bare foot, pushing them under the pool table. Paulo still had his phone in his hand and he stabbed his thumb at the screen before placing it next to the large speaker that sat in the corner of the bar. A song started to play and Eric thought he recognised the artist, possibly The Weeknd. Whatever it was, it was slow and heady and the bass throbbed through the room. Paulo walked over to him, a swagger in his step that matched the beat of the music and Eric could see the confident glint in his eyes as he closed the space between them inch by inch. 

They’d been at this little game for almost an hour now and the anticipation buzzed through Eric’s veins. He should probably feel nervous but all he could focus on was the was his dick was pulsing at the thought of Paulo  _ finally _ touching him. His breath caught in his chest as Paulo squared himself to face Eric, leaning in to place his hands either side of his on the pool table. “Tell me you want it Dier. Tell me that you want me to show you how to make Dele beg for release.” Dele’s name on Paulo’s lips, the way his thick accent curled around the letters, made Eric moan involuntarily.  _ Dele _ , his brain repeated and his eyes fluttered closed. Paulo’s face was inches from his and he felt the warmth of his breath on his skin. “Tell me,” Paulo whispered, ghosting his mouth over Eric’s lips. Eric swallowed, the image of Dele naked and waiting for him floating across his mind and he opened his eyes slowly. The aqua of Paulo’s stare met his and he nodded, angling his head to the side slightly. “I want it,” he breathed and Paulo smiled before dropping to his knees. 

He held his breath as Paulo spread his hands over his hips, thumbs catching on the waistband of his underwear. His mouth was level with the lower part of his stomach and Eric couldn’t help but tilt his head back as Paulo placed his mouth just under the rise of his hip bone, sucking on the sensitive skin. He kissed a path along his v line, tugging at his briefs at the same time. Paulo’s lips travelled with the material until he was dangerously close to where Eric wanted him and he moaned slightly as he felt the hot wetness of Paulo’s tongue teasing the inside of his groin. His hands were still working at his underwear and Eric lowered his head, staring at those long, svelte fingers as they continued to work the navy blue briefs over his thighs. The elastic of the waistband brushed over his skin, the bobbled texture adding an extra layer of friction and Eric had to breath steadily through his nose to focus his mind. He pressed his fingertips against the pool table, applying more pressure every time Paulo’s tongue hit another sensitive spot. He kept his eyes trained on the top of his head and he felt his briefs fall around his ankles. Paulo nipped at a spot right next to the base of his dick and Eric sucked in a sharp breath as he pulled his head back and licked his lips, face hovering close enough for his breath to tickle and Eric twitched. “Look at you all ready for me,” he said, running his hands up Eric’s thighs, angling his wrists as they moved. He stopped just under his hips and he pushed, pinning Eric back. He was strong and Eric swallowed, the anticipation of Paulo’s next move making every single inch of his body throb. 

A retort formed on his tongue and he moved his lips, ready to tell Paulo to get on with it. But then Paulo stuck out his tongue and licked a strip up the underside of his dick and his mind went blank. His hips bucked under Paulo’s hands and he swore as Paulo repeated the movement, working down this time. Paulo reached the bottom and angled his head, sucking one his balls into his mouth and Eric thought he might pass out. “Fuck,” he breathed and Paulo chuckled agaisnt him, the vibration making his stomach burn. He shifted on his knees and lifted his head back up, puckering his lips. He placed them on the tip of Eric’s dick and sucked, running the tip of his tongue over the slit. Eric’s knees stuttered and he gripped the table, biting his lip. Paulo pulled off and looked up at him, precome shining on his parted lips. All Eric could think about was how mad all of this was, how good Paulo looked and how all he wanted was his mouth on him again. “One thing,” Paulo remarked, cocking his head to the side. Eric waited, breath hitching as Paulo moved one of his hands, brushing his palm over his aching dick. “You aren’t allowed to come until I say you can,” he continued giving Eric no time to respond as he formed a fist and stroked it slowly down Eric’s length. His mouth followed and Eric’s eyes rolled back at the tight, warm wetness. His tongue rolled over the tip, the tip running on the underside of the head and Eric’s whole body felt like it was on fire. 

Paulo’s words echoed around his mind, the flippant way he’d handed out the condition making him want to grab a handful of his hair and pull his head back and ask him who he thought he was. Then Paulo lowered his head, taking Eric all the way in. It was deep and Eric’s brain short circuited as Paulo reached behind to cup his ass, pushing his hips forwards. Eric moaned at the movement and he let himself sink into the rhythm. Paulo kept his head still, making Eric fuck his mouth and he switched up the speed every few seconds never allowing Eric to settle. Paulo hollowed out his cheek and he couldn’t help but reach out and tangle his fingers in his thick black hair. 

_ What if it was Dele? _

His brain supplied the thought and he moaned, the tightness in his stomach threatening to unspool as he pictured Dele on his knees. He imagined what his mouth would feel like, how his eyelashes would flutter as he closed his eyes, how he would reach down and cup his face.  _ Fuck. _ He tried to move his hips of his own accord. He needed the pace to be faster and he pulled Paulo’s hair, allowing the heat that was spreading through his veins to take over. Paulo allowed him to control the tempo and Eric moaned again as he felt him move his hand. He brushed his fingers over the underside of his ass and then bought his right hand to the centre, pressing a finger into the crease. He stroked it down until he came to rest over Eric’s asshole and he pressed, moving his fingertip so that it teased and Eric’s hips stuttered at the jolt of pleasure that ran through him. His breathing was quick and shallow and he could feel the pressure building, his vision going white as his balls tightened. Suddenly Paulo pulled back, dropping his hand and lifting his mouth off his dick at the same time and Eric stumbled forwards at the loss of contact. His pulse was roaring in his ears and he swore. He’d been right on the edge and he felt the need for release still buzzing under the surface of his skin. “What did I just say?” Paulo asked, rising from his knees. He stood up and leaned forwards, hands either side of Eric again. Their dicks brushed and Eric whimpered. Fucking whimpered and he couldn’t believe Paulo had reduced him to this already. Paulo moved his head, bringing his mouth to Eric’s ear and he wrapped his fingers around his dick as he repeated “you are not allowed to come until I say you can.” Eric nodded and he fought hard to focus on the wall over Paulo’s shoulder. Paulo’s hand was pumping up and down and his thumb swept over the tip, smearing the leaking precome over every inch of him.

“Do you know why that is?” Paulo purred, his breath tickling the side of Eric’s neck. This time he shook his head and Paulo pulled his head back. “Have you ever edged?” he asked their mouths millimetres apart. “Have you been the closest you can possibly go and then reigned it back in? Over and over until you are literally shaking from how much you just fucking need to come?” A low moan escaped the back of Eric’s throat as Paulo pinned him with his stare, his hand running up and down his dick. It was an agonisingly slow pace and he could feel the tension building back up in his stomach, the burn simmering under the surface. Paulo was right. Every nerve in his body felt like it was singing and every time Paulo squeezed his legs wobbled, the need to chase the orgasm with his hips almost overwhelming him. “Can you imagine it? Having Dele like putty in your hands, like I’ve got you now?” he breathed as he ran a hand over his chest, snaking his fingers up his neck and over his jaw. Goosebumps followed the touch and Eric flicked his tongue out to lick the tip of his thumb as Paulo rubbed it across his bottom lip. He cupped his face for a second and then ran two fingers over his lips, parting them. Eric opened his mouth a little bit more and Paulo slipped them in. Eric sucked, running his tongue over them, coating them with saliva. Paulo still had his other hand wrapped around his dick and he clamped his lips down hard as he twisted his wrist and Paulo chuckled in response. Eric widened his eyes and lifted his hand up, grabbing Paulo’s wrist. He pulled his fingers out nearly all the way and circled his tongue over his fingertips. Paulo bit his lip and leaned in, replacing his fingers with his lips. Eric’s heart jumped, there wasn’t quite enough pressure for it to be a proper kiss and he breathed into Paulo’s mouth. He didn’t move, didn’t deepen the kiss just continued to work Eric, pumping his fist. Eric glanced down, lifting his hand slowly and he felt his fingers brush against Paulo’s dick. He angled his wrist and wrapped his fingers around it, starting to match Paulo’s pace. A small moan passed Paulo’s lips and Eric breathed deeply. There it was again, the slow, tantalising burn. The need to move his hips, to fuck Paulo’s hand hard and fast. Then there was the image of Dele again and fuck he needed to come, he need to let the pleasure that licked at his spine take over. And it was as if Paulo knew, as if he could sense how close he was because the Argentine released his grip and stepped back, causing Eric to drop his as well. 

Paulo jutted his chin out and smiled. “Turn around,” he commanded and Eric swallowed. Paulo waited and Eric gripped the edge of the pool table, leaning in to his arm as he turned. He stared at the green felt, the feel of the wood under his hand steadying him. His heart was hammering against his chest and he angled his head, watching Paulo out of the corner of his eye. Hands gripped his hips and he jumped slightly, the two fingers he’d had in his mouth still slick with his spit. Paulo dragged them across his lower back, drawing a line down over his ass. “Now bend,” he said, pushing on Eric’s shoulder with his other arm. Eric obeyed and he placed his elbows on the table. Paulo pulled his hips back slightly and Eric’s cheeks burned at how he just let himself be maneuvered. But he wanted,  _ needed,  _ what was coming and he could feel the promise of Paulo’s fingers as they danced across his bare skin. “Do you want them Dier? Do you want my fingers inside you?” Eric nodded and he dropped his head between his hands, moaning as Paulo ghosted a touch over his asshole. He pressed his fingertips in and Eric pushed against them. It was a delicious type of pain, feeling himself stretch as Paulo pushed in further. He bucked his hips again and Paulo reached around and gathered his dick in his free hand. “Fuck, Paulo,” Eric moaned unable to stop the words from spilling out of his mouth. His whole body was taught and every time Paulo’s moved his hand in synch with his fingers, it was like an electric shock ran along every one of his nerves. A scissoring motion caused stars to burst behind his eyelids as Paulo’s fingers hit that sweet spot and Eric dropped his cheek to the green felt, unable to do anything other than lose himself under Paulo’s touch. 

“Imagine Dier. Imagine making Dele feel like you do now.”

“Fuck.”

“Imagine him pushing down on your fingers, begging him to fuck to you.”

“Shit Paulo. Fuck.” 

“Are you going to beg me?” 

Eric bit down on the inside of his cheek. Paulo was bent over him, his chest pressed up against his back. The angle of his fingers meant that every time he fucked into him he brushed his prostate and he could barely think straight. The mention of Dele had almost tipped him over the edge and he bit down again, moaning into the green felt as Paulo bought his hand down over his shaft, cupping his balls. Without warning he pulled his fingers out and Eric whimpered at the emptiness. Paulo ran his fingers across the top of his thigh and gripped just above his knee. “Lift it up,” he said as he guided Eric’s leg with his hand. Eric shifted, propping himself up on his elbows. He allowed Paulo to place his leg on the side of the table and his stomach lurched at how exposed he felt. He heard movement behind him and his eyebrows shot up as he saw Paulo making his way towards where his jeans still sat, folded up. He made to move and Paulo stopped, shaking his head. “Stay still,” he commanded and Eric breathed out. His dick was aching, throbbing and he tried to sneak his hand down to relieve the need to be touched. “Ah, ah ah,” Paulo scolded and Eric bit his lip, planting his elbow back on the table. He watched as Paulo fished his wallet out of a pocket and flip it open. He pulled out a shiny packet and lifted it to his teeth. He opened the condom and stood to face Eric, rolling it down his length slowly. He knew he was impressive and he knew he was putting on a show and Eric felt his asshole twitch. 

“Do you want to come Dier?”

The question almost made Eric’s knee collapse from under him and he pressed his upper body into the table. Yes, he wanted to come. He didn’t think he’d wanted anything as much in his whole life. “Answer me,” the demand came as Paulo walked up behind him and placed a big hand on his raised leg. He heard Paulo spit and a low groan reached his ears and the thought of Paulo readying himself was enough to nearly make him finish there and then. “Yes,” Eric breathed, his voice cracking. 

“Say it again, louder.” 

“Yes. I want to come. I want you to fuck me.”

Paulo didn’t waste any time and Eric cried out as he filled him up. He was so big and Eric could feel himself stretching with every thrust. It was hard and fast and Eric’s dick was leaking. He reached down to touch himself and he whimpered at how fucking good it all felt. It didn’t matter that it was his team mate, that he was being fucking dominated, that it was Jan’s pool table and that they would have to deal with all of that at some point. All that mattered was that finally,  _ finally _ , he could just allow the pleasure to wash over him. So that’s what he did. He worked his hand over his dick in sync with the rhythm of Paulo’s and he focused on the tightness in his stomach, his spine and in his balls. 

“Picture him Dier. Picture Dele. Picture him and come for me.” 

And that’s what he did. He imagined Dele underneath him, writhing and moaning, begging for release. The coil of heat that had been building low in his stomach exploded and he pushed back against Paulo moaning as hot spurts of come splashed over his hand. “Fuck,” he heard Paulo breath behind him and Eric clenced around him as he spilled his load, stuttering his hips. Waves of pleasure rolled across his body and he whimpered as Paulo ran a hand down his back. Every inch of him was tingling and his neck prickled with sweat. He shuddered a little as Paulo pulled out and he dropped his leg, thankful for the way it steadied him. He stayed where he was, bent at the waist and waited for his breathing to slow down. His head was pounding and he wasn’t sure if he could move. 

He looked down and cringed at the come stains on the green felt before glancing at Paulo who had wandered back over to the bar. The reality of what had just happened crashed over him and he swallowed, reaching over to pick up his glass, holding it out to Paulo. “How exactly are we going to explain that to Jan,” he asked, angling his head towards the stain. Paulo shrugged, taking his glass from him. “Ah don’t worry, Jan knows how to clean that up.” The comment rattled around Eric’s brain and he wondered just how Paulo knew that.  _ Shit  _ he thought, an idea flitting across his mind. He shook his head, dismissing it and reclaimed his drink. He didn’t know why but it bothered him a little bit that Paulo had just finished, pulled out and carried on drinking as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t just spent two hours winding Eric up, turning him on to the point he had almost  _ begged _ for him to fuck him. _ It was a game, that’s all it was  _ he reminded himself and he stood up, downing the rest of his drink. His heart was still racing and he took a sip, not sure of how to act. Paulo had discarded the condom and was leaning against the bar, naked. He looked so relaxed, like he was used to fucking his teammates over a pool table and Eric’s mind wandered back to Jan. 

He was just about to give into the urge and ask Paulo who else on the team he had fucked when he heard the familiar jingle of his ringtone. His whole body jerked and his chest burned as reality crowded back into the room. He swore under his breath and bent down, reaching under the pool table for his trousers. Just as he clasped the rough material in his hands his ringtone stopped and he shot up. He widened his eyes as he saw Paulo stood with his phone to his ear, a smile stretched across his lips. 

“Oh hey Dele.”

_ Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.  _

He waved his hand at Paulo, gesturing for him to stop but Paulo raised his hand and carried on talking. Eric fumbled with his jeans, his hands shaking. It wasn’t as if Dele could see him, he had no idea what had just happened but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Dele would know something was up because he hadn’t been the one to answer. His gaze fell back to the pool table and he stilled, the realisation that Dele had been the one he’d thought off has he’d came all over it making his head swim. He didn’t know how to unpack that so he shoved it to the side and focused his attention back on Paulo. 

“Ah no he’s just nipped to the loo. I’ll get him to call you when he gets back ok? Ok cool, bye Dele.”

Paulo lowered the phone and ended the call, walking over to Eric. He handed him his phone and raised his drink to his lips, his eyes dancing with amusement. Eric span the phone in his hand, unlocking the screen and he stared at Dele’s name. Two hours ago Dele had simply been his best friend, annoying and bratty. Now, well now Paulo Gazzaniga had fucked him and all he’d thought about as he’d came all over Jan Verthonghen’s pool table was Dele and he wasn’t sure how he was ever going to be ready to deal with that. “Leave the pool table, it’ll get sorted. I think you have somewhere more important to be,” Paulo commented, as he pulled on his boxers. “I’ll tell Toby and Jan you said bye.” Eric nodded, a bit dumbfounded and he watched as Paulo grabbed the bottle of whiskey and walked out of the room. He stood for a few seconds and then realised that Paulo had probably gone to join the two Belgians, the idea of what  _ that  _ meant making him rub a hand over his face. “Fucking hell,” he muttered to himself as he opened his phone, pressing on Dele’s name. It rang exactly once before Dele’s voice sounded on the other end and a wide grin spread across his face. 

“Yes Delboy I’ll meet you in the club,” he said and he raised his drink to his lips,  _ well shit _ , he thought, trying his hardest to ignore the way his pulse quickened and his stomach fluttered at the thought of seeing him again. 


End file.
